A selection of nightmares i had last night
1. I am shit at my job. My boss comes to tell me that they've been letting me off until now but i am going to have to be perfect or i will be fired. No one corrects him with the waking truth that i am consistently one of the best in my sector, because my dream is my feelings and they don't believe I'm any good.
When i wake up i analyse where this feeling came from. Is it the continual "we expected better of YOU" from childhood? In therapy i discussed finally feeling sad that the bright, excited, risk taking child i was turned into a lazy, contemptible (i used this word a lot) adult who never pursues opportunities. In secondary school, where the parameters of achievement and hood behaviour were constantly being fiddled with, a system was created of individual tailored goals based around individual abilities and behavioural problems. In theory it sounds sensible. In practice it meant i was allowed to fuck up less than anyone else. I was not allowed to lose my temper as much or as often. It was in effect a formalised refusal to acknowledge that i had any legitimate problems or unhappiness combined with the already planted messianic seeds from my mother: one rule for you, one for everyone else. Sometimes beneficial - no one else got after hours access to classrooms or was allowed off site so much - but alienating, for someone who already had difficulty being part of a group.
2. Someone has brought a pet monkey baby to the room i am staying in. I try to help look after it but i don't want it there because if anything goes wrong i will be blamed. Later, Charlie Brooker's dog is violently sick all over my feet. I am not blamed for this, but because my mother is having sex with someone in the shower i can't wash it off. I try to find somewhere else to wash, aware that if i am too long i will miss out on the extravagant dinner downstairs, and i in fact pass through the dining room in search of a shower. Several people stare and ask why I'm not joining them. I explain about the sick; they react as if i have done this on purpose. Later i get lost in the massive house, trying to find my room, lose my temper, slam and smash something. I am forced to go on the run, still wearing sick-covered pyjamas.
3. I am trying to get home but instead am hitching lifts and getting buses back towards west Devon, where i grew up. There are Christmas lights on everyone's houses and it is training heavily. My mother won't answer the phone, and all i have from her is a text telling me the funeral (i assume for my grandmother) is on Wednesday. It is a Thursday in my dream.